Another Side
by peccolia
Summary: Laterality-related one-shots that can tie into the existing story or be read as short and sweet standalones.
1. Winter

**Notes:** These shorts were once posted up on my Dreamwidth journal and now they're coming together in a little collection here.

First off is an extra I typed up that's set after Namie's Christmas visit to her parents' graves but before the main event in chapter 26/Twenty-three while I had writer's block. Not really spoiler-ish. From December 2014.

* * *

 **Winter**

* * *

Snow in Konoha was a rare thing, but only because, if circumstances were appropriate, it only happened once or twice a year in the coldest months of winter and, on occasion, the beginning months of spring.

It was cold. Very cold. Most weren't accustomed to it, as the weather in the Land of Fire tended to be of a more temperate climate at its best and desert sauna hell at its worst. Many of the citizens were severely lacking in their cold weather wardrobes and suffered because of it, either remaining inside, well away from the frost, or simply bearing with the cold when they had business to tend to.

But, despite the level of comfort, it was welcomed.

It was a winter wonderland that brought about an ephemeral change to the village, blanketing rooftops in a soft powder of white and bleaching the three hokages' heads on the cliffside; dusting the streets a glaring pale and piling up in drifts like pillows for the children to play in.

Of course, the pile-up also presented several opportunities for young genin to undertake D-ranked snow-shoveling missions to simultaneously make navigating the streets simpler while also maintaining their duties.

...But not much work could be done when a large group of children gathered around an abundance of snow.

"Take that, you _brat!_ " Namie growled as a handful of dense, packed ice was let loose, aimed precisely at a certain Inuzuka's face—and only managing to narrowly clip him on the chin as he fortunately dodged the assault at the last second. It was a retaliation attack. The boy had been the one to start the festivities by flinging snow everywhere and she was only responding in kind since he'd caught her offguard and did the same some few moments before, numbing her nose.

"Wah, scary! Strawhead, lighten up, okay?!" Toboe griped, sticking his tongue out once he'd regained his balance and rubbed at his face, only feeling a slight sting from the hit.

"Don't call me that." The blonde shook out her hand, scoffing when her snowball missed its mark, and reached down to cobble together a new one. A hand dropping lightly onto her shoulder stopped her mid-action, however, and she glanced up sharply at her orange-haired teammate.

"Namie, we have work to do. Let's not get wrapped up in this now," Kasuga muttered, smiling nervously under the girl's mild glare. But it wasn't as if she could see his smile, and his words were muffled. Much like the others, the medic boy was bundled up in a coat and scarf all the way up to his nose, like an Aburame in any other season, with a puffy hood over the rest of his head. Namie knew he tended to dress up in more layers than the others even in the warmer months—it must have been that he was susceptible to the cold.

"What?"

Kasuga moved his hand up to to knit, deep-green scarf and pulled it away from his face so that she could better hear him. "Well, wouldn't it be better if we finished up here before playing with everyone?"

There was a sigh from somewhere behind him. "It's still coming down. I don't think we'll make much progress either way." Kakashi held his gloved hand up towards the falling swirl of snow flurries while he leaned against the handle of his shovel, having ceased his own work when it became clear that those of the other team present, as well as his own teammates, were slacking off. He wanted to finish up the mission as soon as possible, too, but there was no way he was going to be the only one to handle the work while the others did nothing.

"The street's pretty much clear anyhow, I mean, look at it," Toboe shrugged, stuffing his hands into his coat pockets. A yip of agreement came from somewhere above his head, under his lumpy, misshapen hood, where Kurocha huddled, safely away from the cool air. His own shovel lay abandoned near his feet, left forgotten in favor of the more fun possibilities of the current weather.

Namie scowled in distaste before sighing and pulling her slightly-misformed knit mitten (a present from Kushina, who'd briefly taken up a knitting hobby that didn't last even if her amateur, poorly-made-but-charming attempts at it did) back onto her dominant hand, abandoning her plans of getting back at her former classmate, for now. "Nah, Kasuga's right. Not to mention Kakashi looks pissed..." she lowered her voice on the last comment, but by the look her shorter teammate shot her, it didn't go unheard. She shrugged and glanced out towards the other team, catching Suzume's irritated eye briefly and grinning a little. "Oho, Suzu-chan's mad, too! Better get to work, Inuzuka!"

"We should be done already," Suzume commented, though her even tone was somewhat forced after hearing that nickname from the blonde.

Toriichi hummed as he worked his shovel into a pile of snow and tossed it aside, resuming their task. "It won't take much more. I'm tired of it, too, but we're nearly done."

"Sheesh, you guys are all sticks in the mud." Though Toboe complained, he snatched up his shovel nonetheless and went about relocating the snow.

"Stop griping about it. It's easy work." Namie also resumed work, tossing a shovelful of frost in the russet-haired boy's direction haphazardly, while Kasuga sighed and shook his head in the background, returning to the mission at hand as well while the two troublesome genin engaged in another childish battle. Some things just couldn't be helped.

With the six young ninja working together, it didn't even take ten more minutes for them to complete their objective and, soon, the walkways were more or less free of a pile-up of snow.

"There! All done; freedom!" Toboe cheered, throwing his arms up into the air.

"Not so fast. We still have to report," Namie grumbled, setting her shovel over her shoulder as she watched Kakashi walk on ahead, aiming to get things over and done with quickly—and probably to remove himself from their company. For being the youngest, he was definitely more focused and responsible. And totally antisocial.

"That, um, wasn't so bad, was it? Compared to what we usually get, this was almost like...like a break." Kasuga fidgeted with his grip on his own snow shovel as he glanced out at the cleared street.

"Huh, so what do you usually get in Team One?" Toriichi wondered, meandering closer to the more experienced genin as they headed towards the administration building.

"Oh, well, um—" The medic stuttered as he tried to gather his thoughts and list out the types of missions Hiroto had them undertake, caught unawares by the question. "Things like...escort missions. U-um, cleaning. Guard duty. Catching escaped animals. I'm—I'm sure your team will eventually get missions like that, too, Toriichi-kun."

"Yeah, and then Inuzuka will go and mess things up." Namie shrugged her shoulders and spoke casually despite her words.

"He doesn't mess up a lot, surprisingly," Suzume countered, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose and aiming a very slight glare at the blonde from beyond her fogged-up lenses.

"Hey, hey, Strawhead, don't judge me!" Toboe hurried to the blue-eyed girl's side and pointed to his forehead protector, frowning with such exaggeration that one of his canine teeth poked out from between his lips. "See? I'm a genin, too, so I'm on the same level you are."

"Oh? Is that really so? Why don't you prove it, then, dog breath? You're the one who said you'd come and challenge me again once we both got the same rank but it hasn't happened yet." She cracked her knuckles and a slight grin raised the edge of her mouth as she eyed him keenly. "So, come on. Or are you scared?"

"Namie...you're instigating again," Kasuga sighed, eyebrows furrowed.

" _No way!_ I'm not scared, stupid, I'll take you on one-on-one right here, so let's go!"

"Sure, it'll hardly be a challenge. I'll send you packing with your tail between your legs—"

"And you're falling for it, Toboe-kun." Suzume also shook her head, pursing her lips in disappointment.

"Those two are impossible. At least she doesn't make him cry anymore, though," Toriichi shrugged. "Imagine if they were on the same team together..."

"I don't think they would have passed." The curly-haired girl pressed a gloved hand to her forehead, rubbing away an oncoming headache.

Kasuga laughed uneasily. "Well...no, you're probably right."

Kakashi glanced over his shoulder at the lagging group and did his very best not to roll his eyes. "Oi, let's get a move on. There'll be plenty of time to argue over petty things later. Time better spent training, probably, but to each their own."

"Ah, right. Sorry, Kakashi-kun," Kasuga apologized, grinning slightly, then turned to his other teammate who was just about nose-to-nose with the Inuzuka, cool and arrogant while he was fired up. Intervention was the best choice, now. "We really should hurry, Namie." He lightly grasped her arm, drawing her away from the challenge, otherwise they would antagonize each other forever—and quite possibly start hitting each other with shovels.

"Right, right." Namie snubbed the Inuzuka by turning away and ignoring him, returning to her teammate's side instead.

"Oh, you—" Toboe reached out to snatch the girl's scarf and pull her back to their conversation, but Suzume shook her head.

"It's not worth it, Toboe-kun. You two can settle things at a later time."

Toriichi smacked his teammate on the back. "Besides, she'd probably beat you up. I've heard Team One's been having round-robin style training matches with a bunch of other genin teams lately. They're not doing too badly."

"I know, I _know_ , jeez. Whatever..." Toboe scrutinized the small blonde girl as she walked beside her tall teammate and chatted on with him about some thing or another.

She was dressed in a ridiculously insulated, dark blue coat that doubled—maybe even tripled—her size (because it was probably a hand-me-down from her brother) and made her look like an overstuffed bluebird, especially with her thin legs sticking out from the bottom of the jacket, covered in some sort of pale leggings. Her scarf was a jarring pink that clashed with her color scheme, and it was a bit clumsily made, matching her gloves, and there was a loose yarn that tended to snag on things and nearly caused her to choke herself once or twice throughout the day. Once had been his fault.

Despite her foolish appearance, her skill level was apparent. The way she held herself had changed since the first time they'd met. Since the last time they'd fought. She was sturdier; surer. Even with that bulk of garments, she would be able to move as stealthily as ever.

She was strong. He could sense that. But that was why he wanted so badly to fight her again and see just how much had changed; how far he was lacking or how close he was to her own level, so he could surpass it. He didn't know why, or when it had even come to be, but she was something of a benchmark for him. Or, at times, a driving force. Even if he could never reach her level, he would continue to try. All because of their stupid sparring matches during their time at the Academy.

But...interacting with her was also fun. Exciting. Unlike with others, he was able to get a rise out of her and start a fight, verbal or physical. Of course, it didn't always happen this way and she ignored him and easily wrote him off if she wasn't up for that kind of thing and when she did, it made him a little disappointed. But when she _was_ , she rose to the challenge and gave back as good as she got.

In a way, he...admired her.

"You watch her a lot." There was a rustle from his side, where Suzume readjusted her scarf, and her gaze was focused forwards when he turned to glance at her.

Toboe harrumphed and scowled. "I have to study my opponent. It's learning, learning."

"Is that it? I see."

Toriichi hummed as he caught wind of the conversation. "Is that really it, though? Namie's getting kinda cute. If it wasn't for her personality, I'm pretty sure she'd get asked out a lot." He paused. "If you wanna, you better not wait, Toboe. I mean, sometimes even I've thought about it..."

" _No way_ , Tori, don't be an idiot!"

"Well, she looks pretty close with that teammate—Kasuga-kun."

"That's just dumb. And I already asked her about that. They're _just_ teammates."

"I'm just sayin'... One day she'll have a boyfriend."

"Gross. _Her?_ So gross!"

"Don't say things like that, Toboe-kun. Especially about Namie," Suzume cut in, frowning a little.

Toboe threw his hands up. "But Strawhead is so ugly!"

" _Who's_ ugly?"

* * *

Somehow, after another squabble between the two fiery genin, the group made it to their destination and reported their completed mission.

Kakashi left them all quickly, eager to be rid of their company and do something more productive with his day, and Suzume, Toboe and Toriichi had other business to tend to regarding their team, so they were forced to part ways as well, leaving only Namie and Kasuga to stand alone in front of the building in the snow.

"I was kinda looking forward to a snowball fight, you know..." the blonde breathed out, a little crestfallen, as she shoved her hands into her pockets and kicked at the snowy ground. "Do you have to leave now, too, Kasuga?"

"Ah, no. The rest of my day is free because of the—" A snowball smacked him soundly in the side of the head, "—weather." He took a moment to brush away the remnants of the powdery frost and frowned. "Namie, that was a little...uncalled for." Her only response was a grin and all he could do was sigh as she bent down to form another handful of snow that would no doubt be tossed at him in the next few moments. He took a step back. "Please don't—" _Whump._ Flecks of snow exploded in the air as the second ball crumbled against his chest. "Namie—" He moved back again, but another snowball collided with his coat and sprayed white powder everywhere and all the blonde did was grin and slowly approach him, armed with more projectiles, and all he could do was continue his retreat and plead her to stop. "I'd really rather not—" _Swoof_. "I said I—" _Poff_. "Really, this is—" _Whomp._ " _Namie_ ," Kasuga enunciated, stressing each syllable heavily to show his disapproval as he struggled to evade the volley of snowballs, backpedaling and then eventually turning to run, but as he did so, his foot caught on a snowdrift and he toppled to the ground, and the stumble was only made worse when she hit him while he was down.

He was a patient person, really. A peaceful one, too, who avoided conflict and did his best to mediate rocky situations, but _really._ This was just too much.

"Oh—Kasuga, crap, I'm sorry, I was just playing around. Are you—"

As soon as he heard the clomping of her shoes against the snow, approaching in worry, he turned around and flung a well-aimed snowball towards the blonde, effectively catching her offguard and landing a hit directly against her hitai-ate, earning a startled yelp of surprise and rare expression of stupefaction.

"Namie, sorry, but please run." A nervous smile.

And then another snowball was thrown her way, narrowly missing her head.

She grinned before following his words without hesitation, sparking a one-on-one snowball fight throughout the streets of the village.

It was difficult to notice before, but because of the training the team had been put through over the past few months, along with the fact that they'd never sparred against each other directly, Kasuga had grown considerably with his physical capabilities and was able to hold his own quite well in their scuffle.

When both were clearly out of breath, they came to an understood truce and simply collapsed on a nearby bench beside each other, beginning to shiver as the cold caught up with them.

In this fight, there was no winner. By the time they'd exhausted themselves by running and pelting each other with snow, dodging and retaliating, sometimes darting between the residents who lined the streets and leaping behind trashcans and streetlights, their noses were numb and red from the cold. Their fingers were also near-frozen, but gloves and mittens had long since gone forgotten and were lost in the snow somewhere in their wake.

Namie dug through her pockets with stiff fingers before sighing. "I must've dropped my gloves. Kushina-nee-chan's not gonna be happy."

Kasuga looked up from his slightly stooped position where he curled in on himself to keep away the cold and warm himself up, breathing onto his chilled hands, and furrowed his brow. "We can maybe go look for them?"

"Nah, it's fine. But they were pretty warm... well, it's no loss, really." She grinned, shrugging her shoulders in a what-can-you-do way.

"I lost mine, too. I'd lend them to you if I still, um, had them."

"No way, I'd make you keep them for yourself if you tried. I still have pockets."

"But that's...well, I mean, the best way to warm up quickly is—I guess I could show you. Can I see your hands?"

"Sure." Namie twisted her torso so she was more or less facing her teammate and held her hands out towards him limply, raising an eyebrow in curiosity as she watched him reach out to gather them both between his own, carefully—probably because of the skin contact they didn't usually exchange. ' _Friction, huh?_ '

Sure enough, he began to massage them, eliciting warmth from the body heat, and even went so far as to breathe warm air onto their joined hands, all the while focusing on them calmly, with a peaceful, nostalgic expression. Like most of what he did, it was an oddly parental gesture. Caring. Gentle. And a little embarrassing.

"My grandmother used to do this for me," he mentioned offhandedly, eyes still downcast, watching their hands. "I've been intolerant to the cold weather from a young age, so one of the first things I learned from her was that applying friction is a good way to break the chill. Of course you can rub your own hands together, too, but I always thought it was warmer when someone else did it for you..."

Namie said nothing as she sat transfixed, eyes also locked on their hands, noting the way his pale skin contrasted with her slightly-suntanned fingers. How his hands were bigger than her own, if only slightly, but noticeably, and how they didn't even tremble or hesitate as they rubbed against a girl's hands, when usually children of that age avoided such forward skinship because of "cooties" or just general aversion to the opposite sex by embarrassment and uncertainty. Kasuga was different. Mature, but naturally so, for his age. Selfless and thoughtful. Not only that, but this was probably the first time she'd heard him speak for so long about a precious memory, because the way he spoke of his grandmother alluded to the idea that she was no longer in this world.

When she didn't reply, Kasuga glanced up in concern to meet her somewhat mystified blue gaze, and he seemed to become self-conscious of his actions, instantly stopping and awkwardly clutching her hands, stuck between wanting to let go but knowing that her hands were still cold and finding himself unable to, and fretting instead. "Oh, s-sorry. I probably should have asked if you were okay with something like this, I-I mean I guess it's a little...well...maybe it would be better if you were a little kid—I mean, you're certainly younger, but not that young—I'm not trying to treat you like that or anything, Namie, but..." he trailed off in a mumble, eyebrows drawn upwards, as an embarrassed flush spread across his cheeks, more exaggerated than the redness brought about from the weather, when he realized what exactly he'd been doing and to whom, coddling her like a small child.

"It's fine." She dismissed his worries easily and managed a small smirk. "You're a really good guy, Kasuga. Maybe one of the best."

"Wha—n-no, I just—I'm not—"

"Thanks for putting up with me. And looking after me."

His blush deepened, reaching his ears. "It's not...it's nothing, really."

"Nope," Namie hummed, pulling her warmed hands away from between his and moving to her feet. "It's definitely something." There was a soft smile on her face, tender, grateful, and for a moment he was dazed by the expression. But the moment vanished as soon as it came and a bright grin replaced it. "C'mon, let's go find those stupid gloves before it gets dark."


	2. Friendship

Here's another little scene I wrote up that just didn't make the cut into the main storyline/couldn't be properly placed into a chapter. It's yours to decide whether it actually happens in the "~canon~" of _Laterality_ or not. Takes place while Namie is still in her healing period, before the Progression interlude. Written around January.

* * *

 **Friendship**

* * *

Namie didn't often get the chance to interact with other kunoichi aside from those she considered her immediate family, like Taji and Kushina, mainly because her life as a genin had largely revolved around her male-dominated team, and before that even her Academy class was filled with boys and only one other girl. Then again, she didn't particularly go out of her way to strike up any conversations with other females, much less _anyone_.

But that was what made her relationship with Suzume so dear.

" _Ow,_ jeez, do you _have_ to pull so hard, you demon?!" Namie griped out after hissing through her clenched teeth in pain when the spines of the comb were once again raked ruthlessly through her unruly and tangle-prone hair. It was of her own making—if only she paid as much attention to her haircare as her training, then fixing up the mess wouldn't have been so painful. Or, alternatively, if she didn't go for days at a time without brushing her hair just because she remained shut up inside her home, out of the public eye, while her injured limbs continued to heal.

"Do you want this done anytime soon, or not?" the brunette with hair that was just as wily—but actually well cared-for—sniped back tartly. "It'll only get worse, the more you leave it alone." In response to the insult, she gave another sharp tug of the comb and the girl gave a jolt, fidgeting in pain as she sat half-turned on the living room couch before her.

"I feel like you haven't gotten any nicer since you became a genin, Suzu-chan…" Her shoulders hunched as she leaned forward, away from her friend, in defense. She'd taken it upon herself to disentangle that yellow mess, but it was hard to believe there was even a scarce ounce of kindness in the action.

"And I feel like you haven't gotten any better at taking care of yourself, Namie." The blonde still smelled of dog from Toboe and Kurocha's visit much earlier that day, and if Suzume wasn't already used to the odor—and slightly fond of it—she would have been offended. Immaculate personal hygiene just wasn't among her friend's top priorities, it seemed, but that _was_ just like her. She probably smelled and looked as dirty as a stray animal when she returned from missions.

The other girl rolled her eyes and gestured to her present physical state. "Well, it's kind of hard to when I'm like this." Leg aside, having only one available arm to use was highly inconvenient. She'd gained infinite sympathy and respect for people who had lost permanent usage of any of their limbs but managed to go about their lives regardless.

"Excuses, excuses. You wouldn't do it anyway."

Namie had no response and the two remained in a comfortable—if not slightly antagonistic—silence until the task was complete.

Admittedly, even after a good brush, her hair looked no different than it usually did. Back up into the favored high ponytail and good to go.

"Thanks," the blonde grinned boldly, having rendered the hard work practically invisible, but at the same time proud of accomplishing the feat one-handed, as she turned around on the couch cushion to fully face the other girl who sat beside her.

Suzume shook her head in disappointment. "Honestly, I don't even know why I bothered."

"Because you're my best friend who actually cares about my physical appearance?"

"Well, _someone_ has to."

"I'll return the favor someday."

"I think I'd rather you not."

Namie quirked a brow. "Aw, come on; remember when your mom told us to 'graciously accept the goodwill of others,' or whatever it was?"

"I'm surprised you remembered that."

"Heh, right?"

Suzume fell quiet, lips pursed. She breathed out a sigh through her nose before fixing the other girl with a stern stare and imparting a few words that were less biting than usual. "What I meant is I'd rather you start taking care of yourself so you don't have to be in that position."

Two-and-a-half months had passed since Team One's tragedy and, while Namie appeared to be past the worst of her mourning, there was still a subdued sadness about her, despite the cheeky responses. It was a drastic improvement from the last time she'd seen the girl—then, she'd been nothing short of an emotional wreck, and it was…jarring.

She much preferred seeing her in her usual high spirits, happy and healthy. As much as the situation could allow, at least.

Their relationship wasn't always so amiable. Even now, it was difficult to pin down and "best friends" was a term to be used loosely, and somewhat jokingly. But there was a certain measure of care and concern present between them that usually accompanied friendships, because they helped and supported each other, not only as fellow kunoichi but _as_ friends.

What made things difficult between them was an external factor that came in the form of Inuzuka Toboe.

But perhaps that was only one-sided.

The brunette studied her fair-haired friend silently as she yammered on animatedly about something or other in response to the previous comment, only half listening because sometimes it was better to just let the other girl run out of steam before she said something sensible again.

She knew it was foolish and petty, but she couldn't completely quell the faint bitterness that arose from her jealousy.

Toboe was interested in Namie. That much was clear to her, even if neither of them realized the extent of that—and she was almost positive _he_ didn't. His attention was fixated on her whether she was or wasn't in sight and when he was bored, more often than not, he had something to say about the blonde. Mostly about training or sparring, but call it what it was.

He wanted her attention.

Suzume knew this because she watched Toboe more than anyone else even thought to, and his head was always turned in Namie's direction. When they'd received the news of the kidnapping and subsequent return involving the girl, his first reaction was to rush to the hospital and of course she followed, but they'd been denied as visitors each time they tried to see her, which finally devolved into sending flower baskets and well-wishes until she was discharged. He wasn't so callous or shallow to only want to assess his classmate's health because of their status as rivals, because despite his slight air-headedness and tunnel vision, he did care for those close to him.

But that didn't stop him from challenging her to a match the first moment he was able, much to everyone's chagrin.

Whatever the case, he was always looking away from _her_ , when she wanted exactly the opposite. But not even helping him through his studies and training or just being at his side for so long could grant her that. It was something that was out of her control.

It wasn't Namie's fault and there was no reason to feel ire towards her. She knew that and she didn't blame her, but logic and matters of the heart were just incompatible at times and the annoyance remained.

Namie could care less about things like that. She did humor Toboe when it was convenient or amusing for her, but she could care less about his hazy crush. As far as Suzume noticed, the blonde wasn't particularly interested in any of their classmates and her eyes never trailed after anyone's back, even though her gaze was always aimed somewhere. Somewhere far away, somewhere she couldn't see and probably couldn't understand. Like now—that melancholy surrounding the girl was something she couldn't reach.

But even if she did notice his feelings and felt the same, Suzume wouldn't be able to hold that against her, either.

Toboe and Namie were both very dear to her. That was what made it so complicated. She couldn't pick one over the other even if that meant she may end up getting hurt somewhere along the way for the sake of someone else's happiness. There would always be a sense of reluctance and the gnawing insecurity that she would have to face that and be willing to accept it one day, however.

She just hoped she would be strong enough to, because speculating and facing a situation head-on were two very different things.

"Are you even listening, Suzu-chan?"

"Honestly, you lost me somewhere at 'I'm not a kid, you know,'" Suzume replied knowingly, sometimes giving in to the desire to tease her friend.

The blonde's expression soured as she realized those were the first words she'd spoken and that most of her reply had gone unheard. Then, it evened out into something a little smug and airy as she bumped her shoulder against the other girl's arm. "Ah, got your thoughts on something else, hm? Or maybe some _one_ else?"

Naturally, she was well aware of _her_ crush on the Inuzuka. Always hinted at it, but never outright. Probably, with her luck, everyone noticed it except the one person who should have. She adjusted her glasses briefly. "I guess you caught me."

Namie's lips split into a grin. "Knew it."

Suzume allowed a small smirk in return. What she didn'tknow was that _she_ was also among those thoughts.


	3. Good Food, Good Friends

Here's a sort-of omake one-shot that has no relation to the main story line of _Laterality_ and exists only for fun! Takes place some random time before the picnic with Obito and Rin in ch 31. Nothing serious, just general light-heartedness. Written in April.

* * *

 **Good Food, Good Friends**

* * *

"Kushina…I think this is too much food."

"Huh? What're you talking about, Namie-brat?" The redhead whirled around with both hands set on her hips, a spatula dangling from one, squinting in confusion. "This is _perfectly_ enough food for the both of us!"

Namie eyed the various dishes spread out across the entirety of the tabletop, grimacing slightly. Sure, it would be enough for them if they were both sumo wrestlers. Or if they were the equivalent of four grown adults, instead of a child and a teenager.

She hadn't really noticed the output of food while they were making it, too focused on getting things just right. But, now that all was said and done, well… just _what_ were they supposed to do with all this? She did love food, but some things just weren't physically possible. This was a _buffet._

Not only that, but there was a clear difference in their skill. Kushina's dishes were all arranged nicely and appetizingly, almost like perfect photo shots out of a weekly cooking magazine, while her own were…definitely novice, with some looking more questionable than others. At the very least, they were edible. Mushy, maybe (definitely) a little bland and slightly burnt, but edible.

Kushina assured her it was fine—that everyone had to start somewhere. But seeing her pro-level cooking made that hard to believe.

"Well, you take half of it all and I'll keep the rest," Kushina continued on, bringing out the storage containers (which were all in the largest size possible).

"H-half?"

"That's right! We both helped out with it all, so a split's in order."

Even if she _did_ take her share, she wasn't sure how long it would take to consume it all. Just what did _Kushina_ plan on doing with all of it? Putting it in storage for the whole week? No—with as much as she ate, it probably wouldn't last half that long. The girl had the metabolism of a cheetah thanks to the tailed beast chakra contained within.

"What a good day's work, too. Y'know, you're not half bad at this, Namie-chan." She snapped the lid onto the final tupperware container with a satisfied smile as the blonde did the same with hers. In total, they had six dishes, all filled to the top in piles—some forcibly smashed down by their lids.

Carrying it home was going to be a pain.

"Was it really? Even if I messed up the rice the first time?"

"Aha, don't worry about that, 'ttebane! When I tried to clean rice for the first time I turned it into soup, too! It takes a really delicate touch."

Somehow, Namie could perfectly picture the redhead pulverizing the poor tiny grains into dust while attempting to wash them. _Delicate_ wasn't a word that really matched with her, after all. It was a wonder she'd figured out how to withhold enough of her strength to properly fix up a rice dish. But still, she'd worked tirelessly and she'd come this far. It was inspiring.

"So, Namie-chan, whaddya say we do this again next week sometime? I know you're busy, but…it was fun, right?" Her tone was light, and there was a hopeful expression on her face.

"It was fun," Namie agreed, lips quirking into a smile. It was different than their training days, but just spending time with Kushina in general was always enjoyable. "If I get the time, I'll definitely tell you." But she wasn't quite sure she'd be able to finish these leftovers before then. On her own _or_ with Minato and Taji.

Well, there was always Hiroto, too.

* * *

Even when she was a part of Team One, Namie had never seen Hiroto eat a meal. Not even a snack. She was certain he _did_ eat, because he was only human and soldier pills could only take a person so far, but he'd never done so in the presence of the three genin. Not even now, when it was only the two of them.

She always made it a point to bring either a full lunchbox or at least a sandwich along to training because there was no telling how long the sessions would run from time to time, but he never bothered to bring so much as a simple rice ball. Even during breaks, all he did was sit there under a tree reading through scrolls and notebooks, occasionally flipping through a magazine or book (nothing shady like the _Icha Icha_ series, since Jiraiya had yet to write them, thank god). It didn't worry her—more than anything, it was amusing. Mysterious. A little strange.

Maybe he was just uncomfortable eating around others—she'd been the same, once. But…food always tasted better in company. That was one thing she'd come to learn in this world.

Just outright asking him if he wanted some of her lunch that day was difficult, however, even though she'd packed enough—maybe even more than enough—for two people. He would think it suspicious, if she up and offered it out of the blue. Hell, _she'd_ be suspicious if someone did the same to her, especially given their semi-antagonistic, but mostly supportive, relationship. Poison would be the first thing that crossed her mind.

"What."

Namie didn't realize she was staring like a moron until he spoke that gruff word—didn't even phrase it as a question—and when Hiroto looked up from his weapon catalogue, she was sure he caught her staring like a deer caught in headlights. His expression didn't waver, though. By now, he was used to her sporadic bouts of oddness.

"Um—" she inwardly cursed herself as she stammered. Doing something kindly was pretty difficult, when this guy was concerned. They weren't family. They weren't friends. They weren't even colleagues. He was more like her pissy P.E. teacher.

Maybe…maybe asking something like that was crossing a line or something.

She fidgeted, not quite nervous, but uncertain, with the lid of her bento box before just tearing it off to display the menagerie of food that was crammed inside—a mixture of Kushina's and her own cooking. "Do you want some lunch, Hiroto-sensei? We've been out here for hours and I haven't seen you eat anything—I mean, do you ever even _get_ hungry?"

After briefly meeting his eyes, she returned her attention to the meal, just to make sure it didn't look like some twisted, miniature Eldritch horror. It didn't. Just a lot of noodles and rice; piles of vegetables and beef, all thrown together like it was take-out or some bizarre Russian roulette between her and Kushina's cooking. Completely edible. But maybe she should've asked Kushina for pointers on arrangement appeal.

" _What?_ " Hiroto repeated, this time more emphatically as he looked at the large-sized, two-tier bento box in his student's hands. Naturally, he suspected something. A harmless prank, a joke, something that didn't involve offering him real, actual food, but… at the same time, he felt it would be improper to doubt her offer. There was a better, working trust between them now, after all—maybe this was just her way of showing gratitude, because he'd be damned if he ever heard a "thanks" or anything like it leave her mouth.

It was true that he never ate in the presence of his students. He'd never thought it a cause for concern, especially since none of them had brought it up in the past, but he was wrong to think it went completely unnoticed. He didn't underestimate her observational skills, of course, but the fact that she was the one approaching him with this… Well, there was no reason he _shouldn't_ be a little wary. Especially when her body language came off as so reluctant.

"It might look weird because a lot of it is from a first attempt. I didn't _do_ anything to it, okay? I just thought I'd ask. It's weird when I'm the only one eating lunch."

Still, she spoke in a contrary manner, looking unhappy as she offered the food.

But—what would sour her mood even further: his rejecting the lunch, or accepting it? Namie was a tricky one. He no longer suspected mischievous intent behind her offer, because she _did_ know better than that, but if what she said was true, and that this was from her first time cooking, declining would probably wound her ego—no, that wasn't quite right.

She was a young girl, a ten-year-old girl—something he forgot at times, because her mental development and appearance were mismatched. If he said no, it would _hurt her feelings_ , right? Because she was going to such lengths to reach out and share the food she'd made herself with someone she thought needed the nutrition. No matter how he looked at it, that was goodwill.

It was just so…un-Namie-like that he couldn't help but overthink it.

He _was_ actually hungry.

Hiroto took a moment longer to observe the child and the lunchbox, noting the way that her face contorted in vague irritation as the seconds ticked by, before sighing and holding out a hand in acceptance.

Namie's eyes brightened in surprise and she immediately shoved the container into her teacher's hands with a grin before settling down to dig into her own meal. If things went like this every day, she would be rid of the excess food in no time! Itwas an ulterior motive, after all—but one that benefited everyone involved, really.

Now, Hiroto was burdened with the responsibility of carrying through his agreement and actually _eating_ the food. She did say it was her first try at making anything—what if it tasted terrible? It did look edible enough, aside from randomly-sized chunks of vegetables, mushy-looking rice, and some well-done pieces of meat. But, still. What exactly had he gotten himself into…?

"I _said_ nothing's wrong with it," Namie asserted, noticing his reluctance and narrowing an eye at him suspiciously. It was hard to tell whether the quality of her tone was pushy or affronted.

Hiroto held up his hands to calm her. "I believe you, Namie-chan."

It was time to bite the bullet.

Cautiously, he picked up something that looked like a fried shrimp (he _hoped_ it was) with his chopsticks and—ate it.

It took all of his willpower not to spit it right back out. It was _bland!_ And just—what kind of spongy, gritty, bread-like texture was that? Definitely not something that belonged anywhere near fried shrimp. No, in fact—he was quite sure, now—that wasn't a shrimp at all. It was a piece of a kitchen sponge that somehow ended up in the mix. Definitely. A kitchen sponge with a tail.

He knew far better than to criticize the quality, of course—Inori regaled him with tales of his wife's amateur cooking and the times he'd protested the taste, which resulted in upset confrontations and the blond man being locked out of his home to find better food because of it. The situation here wouldn't end up the same way, naturally, but he was definitely against finding out just how Namie would react if he were to give…constructive criticism.

" _Geh_ , this is awful! Burnt, it's burnt…where's the seasoning?" Namie grieved as she gnawed miserably on a piece of beef, looking near tears. "Sorry, Sensei, the stuff I made is pretty bad. But the stuff that actually looks good, it _is_ good—Kushina-nee made that, not me."

It was his chance to agree—to shove aside the questionable-looking pieces and just stick with the safe, normal-looking food, and for a moment, he nearly did. But—he would be digging his own grave if he did that, he knew. Inori mentioned a situation quite similar to this, too. It was in his best interest to say the opposite of what he felt, here, and to avoid saying anything against the girl's cooking.

But…was that really fair? This _was_ her hard work. If he was dishonest, it would be…well, wrong.

This was Namie, after all. She could handle a little dissatisfaction.

"Well, it _could_ be better," Hiroto finally yielded, watching her carefully, hoping he hadn't misjudged the situation and misread his student. Maybe she was at a delicate age, now, and would burst into tears thanks to his words—but he didn't expect that to happen until her teen years.

That wasn't the case. Her face was fixed in a careful, curious blank as she paused mid-chew to look his way, waiting to hear more.

"But," he reached for another sponge-like shrimp, this time with the addition of wormy noodles, "it isn't the worst." It took all of his willpower not to cringe at the sight of it.

A small grin crossed the girl's lips when he didn't intentionally avoid the food that was clearly prepared by her. Unlike anyone else, she could trust him to give her a completely honest evaluation, even for something as trivial as her cooking. Even if he was putting it lightly. Not only that, he was determined to finish the entire lunch, poor-tasting morsels and all. That in itself was admirable.

Now, with more confidence, she reached into her lunch and withdrew a shrimp to chomp into—and immediately froze. Swallowed it down, trying not to taste it, because—

"Sensei, you _liar_. This is really...really terrible."

—no amount of company could _ever_ make her cooking taste any better at that moment.


End file.
